


The Journal

by Tomboyshapeshifter



Series: Abyss of Inksanity [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: M/M, Norman - Freeform, Shawn is mentioned, Trip Down Memory Lane
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:00:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24345388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomboyshapeshifter/pseuds/Tomboyshapeshifter
Summary: After going around to gather supplies for the angel, Wally finds an old journal of his in a closet.
Relationships: Wally Franks/Norman Polk
Series: Abyss of Inksanity [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1757638
Kudos: 5





	The Journal

**Author's Note:**

> I originally wrote this for a friend of mine based on an AU we made for an old askblog on tumblr called Abyss of Inksanity. The blog is now shut down though i still have a great love for it. I love bendy and the ink machine i love this incarnation of Wally and Norman and so... I decided just to post all the fics on here. Most wouldn't have worked on the blog anyway so I hope you guys enjoy.
> 
> Also in this AU, Wally has a very thick accent. I tried to make it as recognizable as possible. Reading it outloud might help.

The size of it was just small enough to fit in one’s back pocket, the binding was falling apart, and the pages were aged to the same yellowish tinge as the rest of the paper of this place. It was a miracle that it barely had any stains, for all of the ink that was a constant leaking hazard everywhere, ruined everything else that could be used for reading or writing. 

Inside the cramped Janitor's closet on the 3rd floor of the decaying studio was Wally sitting on a rather uncomfortable makeshift chair out of a bucket and a rag, his hips having to shift every once in a while. His fingers massaged each of the pages, feeling the softened edges from constant wear as he flipped through. Each page sparking old memories to come back as each word that was penned was read and each drawing that was so carefully crafted was witnessed. But, what was the most interesting about this item, was that it used to belong to him. Back when this place used to thrive and they weren’t in constant danger. 

He bought the journal for when he first moved here from when he was... forcibly removed from Brooklyn. It was to replace his other journals that he had to leave behind with the rushed change and it served as a small comfort to him. For, there was no one here to speak to about his true thoughts. Not if he wished to stay, that is. 

Most of the journal entries were fairly simple. Each page dated and started with a title that describes the mood he had felt for the day. For the most part, he remembered each day in some amount, but it had been so long that few of the details have become a fog. 

It had been an old habit of his to at least try to do an entry every day. As a result, some of the passages were just a sentence, a word(usually a cuss), a small sketch or took half a page. On only very rare occasions did an entry make it a full page. Let alone multiple pages. 

Those entries were sprinkled throughout the journal, most of them in the beginning as that was when he was trying to make notes of everything here. His normal job duties, some of the notes for various pipes and how they work and their solutions. On the very end of the book held small maps on the layout of the studio, and also small biographies of different people he felt he had to at least know the basics of. 

Joey was first and it was the longest of all of the profiles. The man always left a bad taste in his mouth and he felt so fake, but he always assumed he could handle the man since he was so used to that shifty eyed weasel type. 

Most of the notes, along with everyone else’s, were of habits and different patterns he had witnessed each person to have. 

For, in the most basics of cores in every living creature, is that they all have patterns. Especially, when they weren’t aware of it, for it was their sense of structure and life. How things worked, what made sense to that particular person and how their thought process went into everything.

It was always pretty fascinating to Wally, especially, since he was the only one in the building that was in the shadows. No one truly paid attention to him, for it made sense to them. He was the Janitor, he wasn't a supervisor, he wasn't the boss, he wasn't anything important. He was the person that cleaned the mess and impacted nothing in their daily life. It made everything easier to say the very least, for when people believe they are alone, that is when their true selves come to the surface. 

The margins, in the aged journal, were filled with notes of little happenings he had witnessed in that day or quick little jots that he wanted to remember. Ideas of pranks and other such mischievous things, mingled along with them as he read. A chuckle echoing in the tight closet as they all brought back memories. 

How, on the first week, he had learned about Sammy Lawrence and his temper. Finding that the man’s screaming and general anger made him less homesick. For, in Brooklyn, an angry man threatening to kill you was a daily occurrence and he would often find new little ways to aggravate the man. The most simple of things such as, losing his keys for example, would spur the man up for a good hour. It was always a good fast fix for his aching heart, wanting to be back in his childhood home with the tall buildings and the rustle and bustle of the city life. 

Many of the entries in fact, were in some way related to Sammy in the very beginning. The interest only waned when he met Shawn, the toy maker, that made his little sanctuary deep inside the toy warehouse in the studio. The Irishman, who lived up to the stereotype, always had a few bottles of booze hidden around and he would allow Wally to take a sip now and then. Their friendship building on that, they would talk and he learned plenty of things about the man. His interests, ticks, the way he would sing when he worked and if he got riled up enough, the accent would become just a string of words that were nearly indistinguishable of each other. 

Shawn LOVED to talk and Wally was always there to listen. Even if it was just to complain and complain and complain. That was the subject most of the time with him, but Wally didn’t mind. 

He just enjoyed the other’s company. It was a pity that the man never known the true Wally though. There were plenty of times that Wally wanted to tell him everything, to let his soul free to the man, for him to not be burdened by his thoughts and the weight of his heart. Even if it was something like that he liked men, but he didn’t want to lose him. So he kept his lips sealed. 

Wally gave a frown as he gazed at one of the journal entries that focused on Shawn. The drawing of the man’s profile was rather rough as he never stayed still for very long, but it was him. 

“Where DID he go?” muttered Wally, making a mental note to go around the toy factory to see if he couldn’t find any clues. He had stopped a long time ago since nothing ever turned up and often thought that the man got changed into one of the plushies that he created. The true irony if he was in one with his famously crooked smiles. 

As he flipped further into the journal, he frowned when he found a few of the pages missing or scratched out. Holding them up to the light, he realized why and just quickly flipped through them. Trying to block out those memories, not wanting to go back to the weakness of thinking of HIM. His heart a tangled mess and teeth chewing on his lower lip as he tried and tried not to let him enter. Focusing instead, on the other journal entries. 

As his time there grew longer and longer, more and more of his journal entries got shorter and shorter. Sometimes, he would find entire weeks, nowhere to be seen. Figuring that was just a time that was rather day to day business and not interesting enough to even make a proper journal entry, instead just making small little doodles. 

A mop and a bucket, Susie, Joey drew, a few more Shawn’s, and even Sammy once. All rather random and no rhyme or reason to it all until the middle of the journal, when it all took a drastic turn. 

April 21st, 1924 and it was Norman that soon started to fill up his pages. Sure, he already had a few entries on the man. A few of his daily patterns and a few generic things. But...something clicked that particular day. It was so cliche, so stupid to make him start all aflutter, like a damned 10 cent romance novel for lonesome housewives, but, it’s what happened. 

He was on his usual route to clean up all of the rooms and going up to the projectioner’s office when the door slammed into his face and he fell back onto his ass like a damned fool. Being dazed and disoriented at first, he didn’t notice the man rush over to his side. Trying to check on him and his words smothered in his ears. 

When he finally regained what sense he had, he was staring straight at Normans bright concerned eyes. His handsome face just a few inches away, seeing if Wally was hurt or not. 

“Are you ok?” His words were so smooth and rich that it caused him to tremble. He didn’t think he ever heard the man speak before. Many people assumed he was mute. Wally could only numbly nod as he shifted his weight to his legs and stood up. 

But, what really caught him, what really snagged onto his ankle and dragged him down that endless ocean. Was when Norman smiled. It was such a soft smile that held relief, but also bellied a great loneliness behind it, that it just. Never let Wally go. 

Several of his pages after that were of sketches trying to recreate that smile. Many not even coming close. It became a small obsession for the man. To try to learn about him, to see what he could figure out about this shy, quiet man that everyone seemed so...utterly disgusted by. It didn’t make sense. He didn’t seem abnormal to him, the other just needed some social experience, that was all. It was obvious to Wally and Susie at least. So why couldn’t anyone else see that?

It angered him so much when they would gossip about that kind man, it was hard to control his temper and only give a thin lipped smile when he told them all that it was not kind to say untrue things about people they didn't really know. 

He would try to speak to the other, the word try is heavily emphasized here as he didn’t actually know anything about the other. Didn’t know his hobbies, his home life, and the man was so private that if he asked a question, he would just get stared at.

But, one day came an opportunity. The other had dropped some film reels and Wally made a small teasing comment. Something along the lines of, if you wanted to show off your ass you didn’t need to drop something. And Norman just blossomed into this brilliant shade of pinks and reds. It was the hook that Wally needed. A way to interact with the man and see that adorable side of the giant with just a few key words. 

And he did it at every opportunity. His naturally mischievous side being fed at the same time, saving Sammy of his usual tortures as Norman took the brunt of it all. He had hoped that Norman would see that he was trying to be friendly and just talk to him. 

But, it was him that snapped when he realized. 

It was such a simple thing, it was so obvious when he saw him from behind that one day. The man wearing a tan hat since it was cold and his black coat surrounding his form and it just…was so obvious. And it scared Wally. 

His fingers clutched tightly onto that page… that page where he made all of the comparisons to their appearances and they were so close. So so close that it made him uncomfortable. Only thing different physically was the hair colour. 

He stopped teasing Norman for a while after that. 

Once in a while it would slip, or he would sketch a new Norman when he wasn’t thinking. The familiar ache and fear crawling back into his heart that he kept slamming shut over and over again. Hiding it with smiles and laughter and learning more about other people. 

But, despite all of that, it was Shawn who slapped him upside the head and told him to tell him what was wrong. To stop being an idiot and just say what was messing him up.

So he did. Not completely, but he did. He told him about his Ex and about this new person that he had an attraction too and the realization that they were so similar in appearance and his fear because of it. 

It earned him another slap on the head. 

“Laddie, your bein a dumb fucker.” Shawn said, still downing his liquor. “Ye sure it’s jist their looks? “Hoy aboyt ye make yisser list again, but wi’ their personalities yer dumb piece av shoite?” He really missed how blunt the other was at times. 

And so he did. Turns out, the man was right. Even though they looked similar, their personalities were in opposite directions. If his Ex was warm then Norman was cold. Outgoing and quiet. Attention seeker and wall flower. And there were many more. It helped ease Wally’s heart and after thanking Shawn, he sought out Norman again to try to built up any type of relationship. 

Wally sighed as the rest of the pages were just daily occurrences. Some were filled with romantics ideals, and others were filled with his fears of how it would all go wrong. The fear still lingering inside him. More pages filled with Norman with sprinkles of others in between. 

Then, the pages were incomplete. They were blank. From the previous date, Wally knew what happened. It was the day that shit hit the fan and they were stuck in this hell. How he got this body of his that made him feel completely vulnerable, how Susie turned to this half dead angel and how he suddenly became enemies with Norman…. 

With a creak of his bones, he sat up from the makeshift chair, stretching it all out as everything sort of… settled in his mind. Old thoughts mixing with the new and the curiosity of how he lost the journal in the first place came to mind. Making sure to pocket it as he wanted to keep it for memories sake, also so that no one else would find it. 

With his thoughts on the present moment, his mind went back to the decision he made a long time ago. If he had to kill, he would kill. He had done it to many others, even to his once lover and though it haunts him, the man deserved it for doing that to him.

Grasping onto the handle, he opened the door. 

He just hoped that Norman knew it wouldn’t be personal.


End file.
